Captain James T. Kirk sat impassively on his bed with his back pressed against the wall. The familiar sound of the buzzer ringing re-woke his attention. "Come." He wasn't surprised to see Leonard McCoy walk in with a warm smile, and Spock trail in closely behind. He nodded at his two friends, and they took a seat.

"Captain," Spock started. "We have noticed that your behavior in duty has steadily decreased in the past three days-." Spock was about to continue when McCoy interrupted.

"He means, something's wrong, Jim." The doctor translated. "And we want to know what." Kirk sighed at his friends. He could never go one second of being out of character without these two noticing. Of course, he didn't blame, that's what friends were for. But sometimes he wished he could just be depressed about something, and be left in privacy. He stood and started to pour three glasses of Tennessee Whiskey at his personal bar for them.

"Well, I'm just a little depressed, that's all." Kirk said, truthfully.

"Why?" McCoy asked, quickly.

Spock shot up an eyebrow at McCoy's comment. "Doctor, I believe if you refrained your urge to interrupt the Captain's story, I believe he will tell us."

"Humph," McCoy grunted, cushioning himself deeper into the chair.

Kirk continued as his friends simmered down. "I read in Earth's news yesterday that the Amtono Shuttle Airport, in Utah, is being shut down tomorrow. You know, the one Starfleet is buying out to use as a base." He watched both his companions eyebrows raise. "Now, I know that's silly, but-." He was again interrupted, only this time by his First Officer.

"Fascinating."

"That's pretty strange, Jim." McCoy followed, taking a sip of the whiskey as Kirk handed it to him. "I've been a little down in the dumps about it too."

"Doctor, I surmise that you are not and nowhere near any dumps of any sort."

"Spock," McCoy sighed in irritation. "It's an expression."

Spock nodded in compliance and said, "The thought has also crossed my mind about that particular information." McCoy and Kirk both looked at him, and then each other, in confusion.

"What are your reasons, Jim?" McCoy asked, his mind already racing with one word, dare he think it, 'fascinating.'

Kirk took a rather large gulp of his drink. "Well," he started, "I was only seven…"

Young James T. Kirk sat in the main waiting area in the Amtono Shuttle Airport, bored out of his mind. His games of trying to find as many air attendants as possible had grown old, and he found himself swinging his feet back and forth as he sat in one of the many chairs. A cute girl about his age had passed by with her mom, and Kirk had taken his attention to her, but they had left for their flight. He tried whistling a tune, and then remembered he couldn't whistle. He and his family had just gotten back from vacation in Florida over Spring Break. He was currently alone, as his father had taken his brother, Sam, to find the restroom. His mother had then departed to get their luggage, and he had been left to wait for them to return. Kirk turned in delight as he heard the sound of someone sitting down next to him. He almost fell out of his chair in fright as he turned to see the pointed ears of a Vulcan child. He normally would have said nothing, but due to his sudden lack of interest of anything, decided to chat with the new arrival. "Hi," he said with a friendly attitude. The Vulcan turned his head in acknowledgment and nodded.

"Greetings," he said, without showing the slightest emotion. Kirk would have left it at that, but couldn't help himself.

"Where are your parents?" He asked, looking around for another set of ears.

"My parents are back on Vulcan," he said, coolly.

Kirk's little eye's widened in astonishment. "You're all alone!" He exclaimed with excitement.

"Yes, I am here to visit my mother's grandparents." Kirk could hardly contain himself, this kid was way cool.

"I'm seven," he said proudly. "How old are you?"

"I am exactly seven point four in your Earth years." Kirk was about to respond when the lady who had been saying flight's times on the announcement came on over the speakers.

"First call for Flight 217 to Vulcan." Her feminine voice crackled over the intercom. The Vulcan child stood in response, to Kirk's sadness.

"That is my flight, I shall be departing." He said, looking down at young Kirk. "Live Long and Prosper." He said, raising his hand in the Vulcan salute of a V.

Kirk tried to repeat the weird hand placement, but gave up and said a cheerful, "Goodbye!" The Vulcan child raised an eyebrow, turned and walked off. Kirk watched the Vulcan go and the same bored ness started to creep over him like a shadow in a dark black and white movie. Young Kirk started to retry his attempts to whistle, when two men in dark black coats swerved past him, almost knocking him out of the chair. They were completely covered, with a hat and dark sunglasses as well. He was about to yell out when he saw them hurry up to the Vulcan child he was just talking too. They had stopped and gotten the child's attention. He saw them slowly put an arm around the Vulcan and slowly glide him over to one of the empty halls, out of view. Kirk reluctantly got out of the chair and crept over to get a better view. Kirk watched in horror as the men suddenly grabbed the unsuspecting Vulcan. He saw the child try to squirm free as the men started dragging him down the hall. Young Kirk looked around the area frantically. All the people walking around were in too much of a hurry to pay any notice to the kidnapped child. Kirk made a swift glance back at the chair where his parents had told him to stay. Glancing back and forth, he made a decision. Kirk lunged out into the mass of people to chase after the Vulcan, and his captors.

"Captain." Spock said suddenly.

"Yes, Spock," Kirk said, a little annoyed at his story being put on hold for the moment.

"I have confirmed my suspicions." Spock paused. "Captain, that Vulcan child was me." Kirk almost dropped his glass in surprise, and he heard McCoy spit out some of his drink in shock.

"What," Kirk said in disbelief. "That's weird!"

"Indeed, however, I would not quite put it in those exact terms."

Kirk snapped back into his commanding self and asked, "By the way, how did they ever get you over into that hall anyway?"

"The two gentlemen had come up to me and told me that they were intrigued by Vulcan's adoption of logic, and wanted to ask me a few questions, as a native."

"Figures," McCoy snorted, finally snapping back into shape. Though the doctor still seemed to look troubled about something. "The way to get a Vulcan's attention is to flatter them about their all too perfect logic." The sarcasm showed in his Southern drawl.

Spock ignored the doctor's comment. "Captain, I am, however, at a loss on how you did find me."

"Well, Spock," Kirk said, ready to get back to his story. "I had some help. I lunged to save you, when I ran right into a teenager dashing to get to his plane-."

"Ohmigod!"

Kirk whirled to see his interrupter. McCoy sat in the chair with a blank stair on his face. "You said… you ran… into a teenager," McCoy asked, slowly.

"Yes." Kirk said.

"This teen happened to be coming back from a debate competition." McCoy said, stating it as a fact.

"How did you-?" Kirk stopped short and processed what McCoy had said. "BONES?!"

McCoy took a huge gulp of the drink and started. "Well…"

Leonard McCoy hurriedly scrubbed his hands with soap as he placed them under the rushing ice cold water of the sink. He wouldn't be in a rush if the father and son before him hadn't taken so long in the restroom. He was still a little disappointed that they lost first place in the debating competition to West Clay High School. The finals had been down to the two schools, and McCoy had gone up against West Clay's representative, a girl by the name of Priyanka Prasad. He had gone up to the stand with full confidence, only to have the final debate question be Would Earth benefit from Vulcan logic? "What kind of question was that anyway," he muttered under his breath. Not that he minded losing to her that much; she was a beauty in his opinion. Still, he'd hate to go back to his High School, with the rest of the team, and bare the bad news about the competition. Especially his sweetheart, Jocelyn, who had given him a boosting wish of confidence before they had left, a kiss. And, like his father always said, "Better to get second than last." He turned the faucet off and grabbed the paper towel. He had started drying his hands, when a voice came over the intercom.

"Last call for Flight 112 to Georgia."

"Oh Shit!" He sputtered, tossing the towel in the recycling bend and dashing out of the restroom. He stopped and searched the main waiting area for another member, and his friend, Al Sanderson. He had left Al with his bags when he went to the restroom. Realizing Al must have already boarded the plane with the rest of the gang, he sprinted across the area to his flight. He was dodging his way through a huge crowd of cranky people who were trying to get where they wanted, when a kid darted out in front of him. He didn't have enough time to stop, and they went crashing into each other. He brushed himself off and bent down to assist the kid up. No sooner, did the kid try to run off again into the crowd. McCoy completely lost all thought about catching his flight and grabbed the kid back. "Hold on there, fella", he said, his Southern drawl sharpening. "Anything I can do to help, you seem like you're in quite a hurry?"

The child glanced up at him, his big brown eyes filled with hope. "Mister, that Vulcan over there is getting kidnapped." He pointed down an empty hall.

Great, McCoy thought, the kid's mental. "Look, I don't see anything. I'm gonna miss my flight. Where are your parents?" The kid did not respond, just looked frantically down the hall. He stood up, grasping the kid's wrist in one hand. "Hey, is this anybody's kid?" He asked out into the mass of people. He didn't have time to respond before the kid freed himself and darted, full speed, down the hall. "Hey!"

"Last call for Flight 112. Last call." McCoy glanced over his shoulder to see Flight 112's entrance, and then back at the crazy kid. If that kid ran off all alone, he'd probably be the one kidnapped, not his imaginary Vulcan. Georgia would have to wait, "Wait up!" He yelled taking off after the kid.

He was running full speed when the kid suddenly stopped before going down a turn. McCoy quickly slammed to a halt, holding his hands on his knees, panting. "Now I wish I had listened to my dad when he said to do track," he muttered with regret under his breath.

"Shhh," the kid said, pointing around the corner. "I told you!" McCoy peeked his head around the corner to see a Vulcan child being dragged against his will by two men.

"I'm glad I followed you." McCoy said, thinking that two kids could have been lost because of ignorance.

"Likewise," the kid responded. Probably glad to have an adult to help him, McCoy thought. Without warning, the kid leapt out and shouted at the two men, who looked up in surprise. "Hey, you! Let go of my friend!"

McCoy sighed in disbelief, rolling his eyes. "This kid is gonna get us all killed." He said to himself. Then he jumped out of hiding to, to back the kid up. "What in blazes do ya think ya'll are doing with him!" He demanded. The kidnappers looked frantically at each other with shock. One, to both the savior's horror, harshly struck the Vulcan on the head, knocking him temporarily unconscious. They scooped him up, and ran towards an exit. He and the kid followed in alarm for the Vulcan's safety. They got outside just in time to see the two men, and the limp Vulcan, hop in a car and drive off.

"No," the kid cried out in terror.

"Hey, it's okay." He tried to calm him. "They won't get away."

"How can you say that?!" The kid looked as though he was trying to hold back sobs. He noticed McCoy's smug grin. "Why are you smiling?" He asked in shock.

McCoy held up his hand, which held a device clutched in it. "I got the license plate picture on my phone." He said, pleased with himself. He flipped it open, revealing a holographic image of the car's plate. "Always did have my Uncle's photography in my blood." The license plate was very clear, 1654A9. He grabbed the kid's hand, who was now wiping tears from his face, as a smile took its place, and walked over to a Comm. Unit. He typed in the license and an address came up. "There," he said proudly. "Now, let's send this to the police, and go find your parents." McCoy said, sending the information. "What's your name, anyway?" He was getting tired of calling the kid, kid.

"James, but most people call me Jim, or Jimmy."

"All right Jimmy, my names Leonard, but you can just call me Len." He took Jim's hand and they walked back into the Shuttle Airport. He walked up to a Flight desk with a woman in a blue flight attendant's uniform stood behind it. She greeted them. "I need a ticket for the next flight to Georgia." He said, glumly.

"Day not going as you planed," she asked, sympathetically.

"If I explained it to you, ya wouldn't believe it," he said, giving a sheepish smile.

"Well," she said, typing in her computer. "The next flight is at 11:00a.m." He looked at the clock, 9:41a.m.

"That'll be rightly fine, ma'am." She smiled and handed him the ticket. He gave her his credit, and she charged up the total. He sank staring at the row of numbers. "There goes the money I've been saving up from work," he sighed.

"Enjoy your flight," she said, politely.

"Thanks," he said, leading Jimmy back to the waiting area. They plopped down in chairs next to each other, and a silence fell over them. "So," McCoy finally said. "Where is your family going?"

The kid glanced up, looking exited at a chance to talk. "We just came back from Florida on vacation. We're from Iowa."

"Iowa huh, never been there." He noticed that Jim was no longer paying attention. His childish eyes were glued ahead of him. He followed the kid's eyes to a transporter system with a short line of people getting on the platform, Starfleet. "Why are you-?"

"We could use the transporter to save the Vulcan!" Oh no, McCoy thought as Jimmy went running over to the platform as the figures went shimmering out of existence. He went after him; he placed himself next to Jimmy, unaware of his own position on one of the circular disks.

"Look, even if we wanted too, we couldn't. One, we're not Starfleet, and two, I don't want to become a Humpty Dumpty, and have them not be able to put me back together again!"

"We're not," Jim beamed, "but my father is!" He pulled an identification card out of his pocket. "I got this for emergencies!" The kid placed the card into the scanner, and typed in the license plate number out of memorization. It would send them to the correct house that the car belonged to. "Besides, Starfleet is the best! I'm going to the Captain of a huge Starship someday!"

"Space, huh, doesn't sound very interesting to me. I wonder if thwarting a kidnapping attempt looks good on an application to a medical school."

"You want to be a doctor?"

"Yeah, just like my dad. It's a family business."

Jim looked down at the consol. "We should be transported in a couple of seconds," he said, proudly.

The back of McCoy's mind taunted him. Haha sucker! One more second and say goodbye! "And to think, I could be home in Georgia right now." He said dryly as the humming lights took him.

"You're one helluva persuading kid, Jim," McCoy said, taking a breath after talking for that long.

"This is pretty weird, don't you think," Kirk said. "I mean, we all met each other that long ago, and didn't know it was us until now."

"Yeah," McCoy said in agreement. "But then again, we've had weirder things happen to us. For god sakes, this is space!" Both Kirk and McCoy turned to Spock, who was sitting in the chair, with an impassive face, thinking. "So Spock," McCoy pried. "You going to tell us your side of the story, or what?"

Spock looked up and complied. "If I must, doctor. I had just woken up…"

Young Spock's eyes fluttered open to a dim lit room. He observed his surroundings; he was in a corner of a square shaped room. It was fairly large, 1.2 inches less than his family's main room, probably a basement. He noted that his head had a slight ache to it from being hit. He recalculated his last memory. He had been trying to escape when he had seen that strange Human kid dart out and shout something. Then, not far behind, a teenage boy appeared behind him. He guessed the Human to be eighteen years. He sat quietly a moment, wondering why these two emotional Humans had risked their lives to come after him. "Illogical," he said into the empty room. He flexed his muscles and realized that his hands were tightly, slightly uncomfortably, bound behind his back with a sturdy rope. Spock sat up straight as he heard a low humming noise from across the room, 20.5 inches away. He made out two figures in a yellow sparkling glow. They finally formed into two solid figures. The two humans that had tried to save him before. He held back the urge of emotion and kept a Vulcan impassive expression on his face. The older one had his eyes snapped shut. "Are we alive?" He asked, opening one eye. Spock heard the huge sigh of relief come out of his mouth.

"Hey, Len! We found him!" The one his age said, tugging on "Len's" shirt.

"Great," the teenager said, happily. "Now, how do we get that transporter thingy to take us back?"

"That is illogical," Spock said to his rescuers. "Transporters do not have that feature."

The teenager slumped forward in defeat. "Whoever invented the transporter was a real a-hole."

Spock cocked an eyebrow at the comment. "I can assure you he was no "a-hole" of any sort. The man who invented the transporter was-."

"Save it."

"What am I intended to save?"

"Never mind," the teenager said, putting a hand on his forehead, and shook his head. Spock flinched as the kid ran up to him at an alarming pace, and gave him a big bear hug.

"We were worried that you had been killed!"

"Would you please refrain from hugging me," Spock said calmly, trying to hide that his cheeks were turning a darker green. "I do require assistance, however, in freeing my hands."

"Leave that to me," the teenager replied, pulling out an old-fashioned pocketknife from his pocket.

"Cool!" Came the reply of the kid, as he gazed dreamingly at the gleaming blade.

"I got it from my Grandpa for my fifteenth birthday." He walked over and started to go to work on the ropes. "These things are pretty sturdy!"

"They would have to be, my Vulcan strength would allow me to break through normal rope."

"Oh," he said. He was a little embarrassed about being inferior, Spock assumed. Some Humans felt tense and protective around Vulcan's. They felt they needed to prove themselves equal to the race. Spock had often experienced this, and found it; he searched for a word, intriguing. No, that still didn't sound right. Since turning seven, Spock had been searching for the perfect word to describe his interest. They all froze when they heard voices coming near. The teenager pushed the kid over behind a round table on the other side of the room. The teenager ducked behind a chair next to Spock. A door by the table opened, pouring light into the dark room. Spock fidgeted with his bonds. Even though the knife had managed to break one strand, the other four held tightly. His two captors entered the room, both fairly tall. Spock couldn't make out their faces due to the light coming from behind them, just making them black figures.

"Don't worry, Vulcan," the one on the left said. "We'll send your ransom, and then you'll be on your way home."

"Illogical," he replied, flatly. "It would be illogical to let me go. You would not risk the chance of me somehow identifying you, and reporting you to the authorities. Therefore, you shall kill me."

"Say," the one on the right said. "The Vulcan's pretty smart." He let out a chuckle.

Spock glanced at the teenager crouched behind the chair, who was visible from his position. His icy pale blue eyes were staring at him with concern at what he was saying. Spock continued. "Also, if you are hoping to get a ransom for me, you are incorrect. Vulcan will not reply to your shameful emotional attempt to get rich. No matter what you do, they will know their duty, just as I know mine. Not to mention, Starfleet will be out to find me, and you."

"Why you little snot!" The one on the right said, moving forward. Before Spock could react, the man harshly grasped his chin. "We'll see if they pay when they see what's barely left of you," he spat. The man drew back his fist to punch him. Spock braced himself when he saw something move out of the corner of his eye. A fist went slamming into the face of his captor. The man went crashing down onto the floor with a thud. Spock's eyes followed the fist to the face of the teenager, who had darted out to save him.

"Get the Hell away from him!" The teenager growled. The man stayed flat on the ground, apparently unconscious. Spock regained his Vulcan composure. These Human's were defending him, even though they didn't even know him. Spock felt disgust at their overflowing emotion, but at the same time an intense gratitude. Once the teenager realized the man he had punched was unconscious, he flexed his hand, wincing in pain.

"Hold it right there!" They both turned their attention to the other kidnapper. They both tensed as they saw what was in his hand. A phaser, aiming for the teenager, set to kill. Illegally smuggled, Spock assumed. "Dammit, how do you keep finding us?!" His voice rang out with a paranoid tone. "What? No more friends going to pop out to save you," he taunted, even though his voice was clearly on the edge of a breakdown. "We're not going to get caught by a stupid seventeen year old!"

"Eighteen," the teenager muttered in annoyance. "I'm a Senior."

They saw his finger flex, he was going to pull the trigger.

Out of nowhere, the kid leaped from behind the table and tackled the unsuspecting captor to the ground. As they hit the ground, the phaser went flying out of his hands, and spun over to the middle of the room. The man pushed the kid off of him and dove for it. At the same time, the teenager made a lunge as well. The teenager snatched it off the ground and pointed it at the kidnapper. He quickly adjusted the setting, and fired. The blue light lit up the room for a split second, and the captor's body went limp. Unexpectedly, the teenager plopped to the floor, and flew up his head in laughter. "That was the scariest thing I've ever done in my life," he said, letting out his laughter. He calmed himself down and stood back up. He wiped the beads of sweat of his forehead.

"I'm still at a loss to why you did not come up with a plan before coming here?" Spock asked.

He flew up his hands in disgust. "Dammit, I'm a teenager, not James Bond!"

"James-?"

"Never mind."

The teenager stood and looked at the phaser. Holding it up, he examined it. "This is fascinating!" He said at the weapon. "Next birthday, I'm asking my Grandpa to get me one of these!"

Spock's eyes widened at the word. "Fascinating," he repeated quietly to himself. The word felt right, the way it rolled on his tongue.

"How long do you think they'll be knocked out?" The kid asked.

Spock snapped back to attention. "Approximately 7.2 hours." They turned their heads and stared at him in disbelief. "That's assuming that the phaser was fully loaded, the distance from which it was fired-."

"That's great, but don't you think we should get back to the airport." The teenager said. He moved over with his knife and cut through the rest of Spock's bonds. They took the rope and tied up the two crooks for the cops to find. They figured that they would find a copy of the ransom footage in their computer console. They had found the outside of the complex, and realized that they were a short distance from the airport and had walked back on foot.

"Wait a damn minute," McCoy sputtered as Spock said the last sentence. "If I hadn't said the word 'fascinating' that day, I wouldn't have to hear it come out of your mouth every single day!"

"That is essentially correct, Doctor."

"Ugh," McCoy grunted. "I should've let the kidnappers take you, would have saved my future self loads of trouble."

"Gentlemen," Kirk said, warning his friends that it was time to stop with the insults. "I remember getting back too."

Young James T. Kirk, and his two companions, entered the building. He turned to see that Len was talking to the Vulcan. "Well," the older boy said. "You could at least show us some gratitude of thanks for saving you!"

"Vulcan's do not thank." The Vulcan child corrected.

"Figures," Len grunted. "Why did they even kidnap you anyway?" He drawled.

"Most likely to the fact that my father is high in the Vulcan government." He saw Len about to reply when the intercom came on.

"Now boarding Flight 112 to Georgia."

"Well," he said, a grin spreading across his face at the thought of finally going home. "That's my flight." He turned to Kirk. "Go find your parents, and stay with 'em! I feel bad for the next soul that has to encounter you two." He gave them a grin, turned and strolled off to his flight. He stopped and faced them once more, "Oh, and if I ever have a kid, I hope it's a girl. I'd be too afraid that if I a boy, I'd go through something like this everyday." He continued to his flight entrance.

"Now boarding Flight 217 to Vulcan." The feminine voice filled the room of people.

"I must depart now." The Vulcan arched an eyebrow at the repeat. "Live Long and Prosper." Kirk nodded, and the Vulcan walked off with perfect posture and pace. Kirk smiled, his developing mind wondering if the three would ever encounter again. Nah, he decided. He wandered off to go find his parents.

Kirk looked at his two friends. McCoy displayed a smug grin on his face, while Spock remained with his usual no hint of emotion. "You know, my parents never did believe my story. They figured I'd hit my head."

"Ya should've heard the lectures I got from both my dad and principle about being on time, and not coming up with excuses, Jim!"

"Indeed, Captain. My mother did have an emotional display of a breakdown when I came home. She was extremely worried when I had not gotten off the plane. Both my parents assumed I had tried to run away again and was sent back by the flight attendants."

"Run away, Spock! You!" McCoy said in astonishment.

"Indeed, I did have a habit of running away from my father."

"And you admit that!" McCoy gasped, not believing his ears. "I think I need a drink." McCoy took another sip and headed for the door. "Well, if Spock's going tell us his childhood story, I'm getting out of here. Plus, I don't want to stick around to hear Jim gloat about how our first meeting was destiny."

"Bones," Kirk said, acting as if he felt hurt. "I wouldn't say that."

"Don't try me, Jim. I know you better than you know yourself. I did become a doctor might I remind you." He smiled at them and headed out the door.

Spock then stood as well. "Captain, I believe I shall accompany the good doctor, and make sure he gets to his cabin in one piece."

"Bye, Spock." He said sitting down in front of the computer as the Vulcan vanished through the doors. The computer screen flicked on. "Computer," he said towards the comm. "Take a message to Starfleet Headquarters, a request." It wasn't a bad request too. How could Starfleet turn down a request from one of their most prized Captains? Kirk nestled down into his bed and drifted off to sleep. He and his friends went to bed that night, unaware that the next day, the main story on Earth's news would be of how the Amtono Shuttle Airport, in Utah, would stay running, due to a request from a Starship Captain named James T. Kirk.